


Tiny Little Bows

by placentalmammal



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Dancing, Dating, F/F, Fluff, Girls Kissing, Secret Samol 2017, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 08:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: There's not much privacy on theKingdom Come, but Aria and Jacqui still find time to be together.A 2017 Secret Samol gift for b_minor!





	Tiny Little Bows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [b_minor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_minor/gifts).



The cabins on the  _ Kingdom Come _ aren’t really deserving of the name. The crew quarters are larger than closets, although not by much, a few square feet of floor space edged by lockers and a narrow bunk. Aria has enough room to turn around, but not enough to stretch or dance or do any of the things that make having a private cabin worthwhile. She’s tried to make it homey with a few personal touches: a constellation of stick-on stars, a poster of the  _ Regent’s Brilliance _ . (It’s a  _ nice  _ poster, one of the expensive ones with a shifting holo display.) Her bedding (pink) matches the throw rug (pink) which matches her shower caddy (salmon, they were out of pink), and so  _ what  _ if Cass thinks it’s childish to prioritize aesthetics over utility, what do  _ they  _ know?

_ Not a goddamn lot _ , she thinks, peering around Jacqui’s bulk as the larger woman stands in the doorway,  _ they’ve never even  _ had  _ a girlfriend. _

Which is an  _ absurd  _ thought, Jacqui isn’t her  _ girlfriend.  _ She’s just  _ a  _ girl, a large and terrifyingly hot girl. A girl who, a few weeks ago, broke Aria’s nose and cracked three of her ribs. A girl who  is _ currently  _ standing in Aria’s quarters and surveying her glow-in-the-dark stars and her color-coordinated bedding with a decidedly neutral expression.

An eternity passes. Jacqui furrows her brow. Aria dies a thousand deaths waiting for the other woman to pass judgment. Finally,  _ finally,  _ Jacqui turns, cracks a smiles, and says, “cute.”

“You think so?” says Aria, trying and mostly failing to keep her relief out of her voice. “Sometimes I think the pink might be a little much.”

Jacqui grins and Aria’s stomach swoops.  _ Oh no, she’s hot,  _ she thinks, for the second or third time in less than twenty-four hours.

“It is,” says Jacqui. “But it’s very you.”

“What are you implying?”

Aria winces at the sound of her own voice, at the bubbly too-much intensity of it. A decade as an entertainer has fucked with her default settings; apparently, she can’t do subtle any more. Fine on set, in recordings, in performances, but  _ too much  _ for the tiny space and the very large (very hot) woman she’s sharing it with.

Jacqui laughs at that, not her usual brassy cackle but something softer, higher-pitched. She  _ giggles,  _ actually  _ giggles,  _ and Aria realizes belatedly that she’s nervous, too. Jacqui’s so confident, so fucking  _ cool  _ that it never even occurred to Aria that her big, brash persona might be a front. It’s obvious in retrospect, she feels like an idiot--

“Do you wanna listen to music?” Aria blurts. Without waiting for a response, she brings up the holo display on her bracelet and queues up her danciest playlist. The cheap, wireless speaker perched on top of her wardrobe crackles to life, filling the tiny room with music. The sound quality is abysmal, but fiddling with the volume controls gives her something to do with her hands.

Jacqui bops her head in time to the beat. Her movements are a little stiff, a little self-conscious. “I’m not a dancer,” she admits, “but this is one of my favorite songs.” She smiles again, more crooked than confident, and Aria is thoroughly and utterly charmed.

“ _ One _ of your favorites?”

“After the entire tracklist of _ MechStar Love _ , of course.”

Laughing, Aria rolls her eyes. “My debut album was a real piece of shit, you know that, right? I didn’t even write any of those songs.”

“Not another word,” says Jacqui, mock-threatening. “‘Prism Dance’ was my  _ jam  _ in middle school, you’re not allowed to ruin it for me.”

Aria stifles a giggle, and then they lapse back into silence. She and Jacqui avoid one another’s eyes, not talking until the song ends and a new one starts. The beat is different--slower, sensual--it’s still dance music, but a different  _ kind  _ of dance music

Face heating, Aria stares intently at the wall. The poster flickers and the image of the  _ Regent’s Brilliance _ dissolves, replaced by the EarthHome logo. The display lingers on the familiar, stylized text, and then the  _ Brilliance _ returns, shining and splendid. The mech in the  _ Kingdom’s _ cargo hold is less spectacular: dented and scratched, battle-scarred. The  _ Brilliance _ is a real war machine now, not just a prop, not just a shiny toy for a pop singer--

Jacqui laughs, a soft little  _ ha  _ caught low in her throat. “This is dumb,” she says. “Just standing here. Do you wanna--” she shrugs, dips her head in time to the music, and extends one metal hand.

Unable to suppress a smile, Aria takes her hand. “Sure,” she says, and Jacqui pulls her closer and settles a hand on her waist. The metal is unyielding but not cold--it’s as warm as the rest of her. Aria makes a happy sound and presses closer, flattening herself against the larger woman. They sway in time to the music, and Aria lays her head on Jacqui’s broad chest. She can hear the slow thumb of her heartbeat, a sweeter rhythm than the mediocre pop song pouring out of the shitty speakers.

Jacqui is solid and steady and a  _ terrible  _ dancer and very,  _ very  _ hot. And they’re not even dating, she isn’t even Aria’s girlfriend, but in that moment, she’s the only thing in the whole universe that matters. Counterweight lies behind them, September lies ahead. They have a job to do, but right now, they have a moment to themselves.

The song ends, and Aria presses closer to Jacqui. The corner of her mouth twitches up in a grin and Jacqui squeezes her, metal fingers digging into Aria’s hips. Her smile is irresistible, and Aria doesn’t even try. Clutching at the other woman’s broad shoulders for support, she rises onto her tiptoes to capture her in a kiss. Jacqui holds Aria steady and she kisses back, soft and sweet and unhurried. It’s gentle and absolutely  _ perfect,  _ and when they break apart, Jacqui’s grinning even wider.

“Wow,” she says. “ _ Cute. _ ”

Laughing, Aria punches her in the arm--her own prosthetic rings out against the metal bands of Jacqui’s arm, and they both dissolve into giggles. They topple backwards onto Aria’s bunk, still laughing, and before long, they find a better use for their mouths.

It’s a moment--just one--but they’re going to make it last.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [my absolute favorite CRJ song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ckSZ00zedY)


End file.
